


Support

by Myqueenmarceline



Series: Forduary 2017 [2]
Category: Gravity Falls
Genre: Gen
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-03-05
Updated: 2017-03-05
Packaged: 2018-09-28 13:08:32
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 298
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/10102217
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Myqueenmarceline/pseuds/Myqueenmarceline
Summary: Week 3 of forduary: Fiddleford helps out Ford before everything went to hell.





	

Fiddleford sighed as he pulled up to the house, the lights still on even if it was eleven in the morning.

He left the keys in the ignition, fairly sure that he would need to head back into town and fetch some hot food. He wasn't amazing at cooking, and Ford definitely wouldn't be in the mood.

He marvelled at the man's obliviousness as he opened the secret door all the way, heading down int other basement.

Ford was sitting at the desk, papers scattered around him as he held his head in his hands. He had been close to a breakthrough, but in the end, the calculations hadn't supported him, and he was mumbling quietly about "two steps forward, one step back, it's ok."

Judging by the stone cold, half-full cups of coffee lying around, he hadn't moved much since the previous afternoon.

"Alright, that's enough coffee for you." Fiddleford said loudly, taking the pot and putting it into the sink with a few plates. It probably wasn't very clean, but there hadn't been any chemicals residing in it for several months, so he figured it would suffice for now.

"Noooo, I was so close." Stanford whined, struggling as Fiddleford heaved him to his feet.

"And you won't be able to properly finish it unless you get some sleep. God, you haven't changed since grad school. You know, I'm supposed to be your assistant, not your maid." Fiddleford groused to himself, heaving his much heavier friend up the stairs and onto the couch.

"I said Support, not assistant. Don't get ahead of yourself." Ford joked, voice dropping off into a loud snore.

Fiddleford rolled his eyes, pushing up his sleeves past the elbow and getting to work on the tornado that had gone through the living room.


End file.
